


Crushing Hard

by donutwolf



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Awkward Boners, Belly Kink, Body Worship, Chubby Kink, Crushes, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Galaxy Garrison, Getting Together, Kink Exploration, M/M, Manhandling, Moobs, Pre-Canon, Roommates, Situational Humiliation, Size Difference, Strength Kink, Wrestling, squashing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-10-31 19:59:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10906425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/donutwolf/pseuds/donutwolf
Summary: Lance has a crush. But also, Lance wants to getcrushed.





	Crushing Hard

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a crushing fic, but quickly devolved into a Hunk Is Big and Beautiful fic because... he _is_ , and there's never enough Hunk body appreciation fic lbr. 
> 
> Thank you to my lovely Chubstilinski for the squee and the beta, and to swbarainc for cheerleading and uh. Helpful suggestions... Team Hance!!♥

As the instructor looked down at his clipboard and read out the assigned pairs, Lance started chanting in his head.  _ Please not him, please not him, please not _ him--

“McClain! You pair up with Garrett.”

He blanched, the mantra in his mind hitting a stop like a record scratch.

“Oh, cool!” Hunk said beside him, bumping him on the shoulder with enthusiasm. “Looks like it’s gonna be you and me again, roomie!”

He slowly turned to face his opponent for the wrestling practice--his roommate and new best friend, Hunk Garrett. Or, should he say, Hunk Garrett, the dude he was currently crushing on hardcore.

Lance crossed his arms over his chest, and pulled a smirk on his lips to feign confidence over the swell of panic inside him. “Don’t think I’m gonna take it easy on you just because you’re twice my size, buddy,” he said, quirking his brow in challenge.

Hunk eyed his determined face, then smiled even wider. “Don’t think I’m gonna take it easy on you just because I like you,” he replied. He crossed his arms to mimic Lance’s pose, his big biceps bulging around his powerful chest, and Lance could feel the color flushing back to his cheeks with a force; even the tips of his ears burned.

Oh, he was so  _ fucked. _

  
  
  
  
  


He had first met Hunk on a visiting day before his first year at the Garrison. Since he was a kid, Lance had dreamed of becoming a space pilot, spent countless of nights lying under a starlit sky, vicariously imagining the adventures he would someday have there. This visit to the Galaxy Garrison was the first chance he got to see the space academy for himself; he’d barely slept a wink the previous night. 

But now, as he looked at the milling groups of rowdy teenagers spreading all around him, the lack of sleep suddenly backfired on him. He felt like a ball of nerves. Lance glanced around, trying to guess which ones would be his new classmates-- _ if _ he was able to get in, that was--when his eyes landed on a guy standing on the other side of the crowded hall.

At first, Lance thought it was his size that made him stand out. He was tall himself, for his age at least, but this guy had bulk to his frame, making him look older than the rest of them. But despite his size, there was something unassuming about him; he was watching the crowd with a slight frown on his face--probably thinking the same thing as Lance. After a moment, the guy made his way over to the side of the hall where a partly dismantled spaceship was set on display, stopping there to study it with his head cocked.

Lance looked around--most of the people were gathered around various info desks, listening to the instructors talk about the life on the campus and space adventures--but his eyes kept dragging back to where the big guy was standing, his attention captured by the plane model.

It took a few minutes to slink through the crowd, but the guy was still there when Lance appeared by his side. He cleared his throat. “You know what model this is?”

The guy glanced over, startled to hear someone addressing him. “Huh? Oh, you mean the ship?” Now that they were standing side by side, he wasn’t that much bigger than Lance, and the innocent look on his face further softened his image; he seemed much less intimidating up close. His eyes darted back to the plane model, then returned to Lance. “It’s the G5600, isn’t it?”

Lance frowned, the smirk on his lips vanishing. “Oh, yeah.” Of course, he’d known that; he’d just wanted to make an impression. “So, you know your planes, huh?”

“Uh, no.” The big guy grinned. “But it says so right there on the sign.” He pointed at the placate fixed on the ground, just five feet from Lance.

_ Oh.  _ Lance grimaced, cursing the blush that crept on his face.

“I take it that you do? I mean,  _ you  _ knew it was a G5600 by sight.” Lance felt the guy eye him with curiosity. “Pilot class?”

He tried to keep his poker face, but couldn’t hold back the smile that appeared on his lips. “Yeah, that’s where I’m headed,” he said, flashing a grin at him. “Been dreaming about it since I was eight.”

“That’s cool.”

“How about you?”

“Engineering.” His eyes returned to the spaceship, his expression turning wistful for a moment. “My dad used to be a mechanic.”

Lance’s grin turned excited. “Your dad used to fix spaceships? That’s amazing!”

“Ah, no,” the guy corrected quickly, “he just fixed cars. And you know, everything.” He was still looking at the ship’s exposed engine system, but his gaze looked far away.

“Oh.”  _ Fixed, past tense.  _ Lance bit on his lip, then asked quietly, “Is he--”

“He passed away a few years back. Ah, but it’s okay, I mean, I don’t meant to dump all that on you.”

The guy waved it off with a laugh, but Lance could see the sadness still lingering in his eyes. There was something very honest and genuine about this dude; Lance knew with sudden certainty that if they were friends, he would never lie to him. He seemed like a solid guy to trust.

“I’m Lance, by the way.”

He stuck out his hand, ignoring how ridiculously official it felt. But the guy didn’t hesitate to reciprocate, his face brightening up as he clasped Lance’s hand in his.

“Hunk.”

Lance leaned in, perking his ears as if he hadn’t heard that right. “Hunk?” he repeated, brows furrowing in confusion.

“Not my real name, obviously, but everyone calls me that.” Hunk shrugged, then grinned as he continued, “And it’s pretty easy to remember, so no one forgets me after hearing my name once. It’s like magic.”

Lance blinked, then started laughing. “Dude, can’t argue with that logic. I like it.” He realized he was still holding hands with Hunk, and snatched his back with a flush. He cleared his throat again to get his voice back. “Nice to meet you, Hunk.”

“Nice to meet you, too, Lance.”

  
  
  
  
  


It didn’t occur to Lance that he should have asked for Hunk’s number until he was already on the bus, on his way home. They had spent the rest of the visiting day together, chatting about planes and space and--everything, really. Lance had always been good at making friends, but there was something special in the way they had instantly hit it off. Like they were destined to become best buds. 

But as the summer wore on, the memory of that day dimmed, and he almost forgot about Hunk. He kept himself busy, trying not to fret over his future. Days passed fast while he stacked shelves at his part time job at the local supermarket, delivered newspapers on his bike, and helped his mother take care of the unruly bunch of his sister and brothers; the sunny evenings were made for lounging on the beach, surfing and hitting on girls, just like any other teenaged boy in his town.

Until the day when the letter of admittance finally arrived, and his second thought after swallowing his disappointment was:  _ did Hunk get in? _ He had to have; he’d seemed like a smart guy. The engineering training was less popular than the pilot one, anyway. Lance had been appointed to the cargo class which, he had to admit, wasn’t exactly what he’d been hoping for. But more than that, his excitement for getting in the school of his dreams was shadowed by the prospect that his new friend might not be there to enjoy it with him.

Which--was a little weird. He tried telling himself that if Hunk hadn’t gotten in, there would still be plenty of cool people to make friends with. They weren’t even aiming for the same program, so what did it matter? But he couldn’t shake the feeling that plagued him, that this was something he needed.

As the start of the semester drew closer, little things started to remind him of Hunk. The new test flights and technical advancements, all the latest discoveries he read about on his favorite space blogs--was Hunk reading these same sites, hearing same news? Even the auto shop on the corner of his neighborhood made his mind circle back to Hunk, like a boomerang that hit him harder each time it made a return.

He just wished he could talk to the guy.

So when the first day of the semester finally arrived, Lance unloaded his stuff from the bus--a duffel bag full of clothes, his new cadet uniform, and as many treats from home as he could manage to pack in--threw his backpack over his shoulder, and scanned the crowd for that big, familiar frame. The grounds outside the academy were filled with families saying their goodbyes to the sons and daughters who’d come to study there, but no one matching Hunk’s description caught his eye. 

Lance felt a pang of disappointment--maybe Hunk really hadn’t gotten in. He quickly pushed the feeling aside as he got in line to move inside the Garrison’s main building. He’d memorized the itinerary for new students they’d sent with the acceptance letter, and the first thing was the orientation held in the big auditorium--

There was a tap on his shoulder. Lance spun around, a smile ready to spring on his lips.

“Hey.” Hunk grinned at him, waving his hand. “Remember me?”

It took a moment for Lance to respond; his mind went blank as he looked over Hunk’s form, all the things he’d wanted to say scattering like a flock of seagulls. 

Hunk had gotten  _ big.  _ It had only been months since they had met, but puberty had done its deed and given Hunk a growth spurt Lance could only dream of. He’d gained a few inches himself, but--nothing like  _ this.  _ Hunk’s shoulders had broadened, his thick biceps stretching the sleeves of his t-shirt, his chest big and barreled like he’d done nothing but lift weights all summer. It wasn’t pure muscle he’d gained either, his belly forming a soft and round bump under his shirt, but--he looked good.  _ Really _ good. As his brain finally got back online, it was suddenly painfully, obviously clear what was going on.

Lance had a crush.

“ _ Hey, _ ” he breathed out. “Hunk, right?”

Hunk’s smile turned even wider. “See? Works every time.”

Lance chuckled; like he could have forgotten--like he hadn’t spent the last few weeks thinking about the guy every day until he’d even featured in his dreams.  _ Don’t think about it now, _ he told himself sternly, pulling himself together. “Wow, looks like someone’s been hitting the gym this summer,” he said, raising his brow as he gave Hunk another lookover.

Hunk glanced down at himself; his hand touched his belly, and he pulled a face. “Not quite,” he said. “Got roped into working at my uncle’s construction site. Guess all that heavy lifting did  _ something _ .”

“Dude, you look good,” Lance immediately replied. Then he flushed; could he be any more obvious? He forced a smirk on his lips and patted Hunk on his big arm. “This muscle’s gonna come in handy when you guys start repairing shit, you’re gonna be fine.”

Hunk shrugged, looking a little embarrassed, but he perked up as a thought occurred to him. “Oh, so did you get in the pilot training?”

Lance grimaced, looking away; he’d been waiting for the question. “Uh. Yes and no. Got shoved down in the cargo class.” He’d had to explain the same thing to every one of his friends and relatives over the summer, so technically, he should be used to this by now, but--it still hurt. He glanced at Hunk carefully, somehow afraid of his reaction.

“Sorry, dude,” Hunk said earnestly, then offered him a small smile. “But at least you got in! Would’ve missed you if you hadn’t.”

There was a flutter in his chest, something warm and hopeful, and Lance blushed. “C’mon, big guy, we’re holding up the line.”

  
  
  
  
  


They squared off in one corner of the big training hall. All around them, the rest of the first year cadets prepared for the wrestling drills in similar fashion, paired up with each other. “We’ll start with standing practice--try to get under your pair’s guard, but no takedowns yet!”

Lance turned his attention to Hunk. His roommate crouched into position opposite of him, his face sobering up. Not only did Hunk have a physical advantage over him, but with his expression so serious and focused, he looked like a bear ready to maul him, and Lance felt a shiver run down his spine. He’d taken Hunk as the kind of guy who hated fighting, someone who valued peace over combat, but--he’d come to learn that if Hunk set his mind on something, he could push himself past that wall and beyond, with surprising results.

Lance quickly wiped his palms on his sweatpants, and changed his stance to mirror his opponent. “Ready?” he asked. Hunk just nodded, not breaking his concentration. “You go first.”

Lance had barely gotten the words out when Hunk already lunged at him. He’d always prided himself on his quick reflexes, but Hunk was  _ fast, _ much faster than his size implied; he ducked under Lance’s extended arms and moved in, his fingers skirting over Lance’s ribs. 

“Gotcha.” Hunk’s lips quirked into a pleased smile as he pulled back to his starting point. 

Lance scoffed, rolling his shoulders to loosen up. “Yeah, well, let’s see how you handle  _ this. _ ” He stepped forward with speed, using every bit of his dexterity to get through Hunk’s guard, and tapped him on the side. “A-ha!” he exclaimed, grinning at Hunk. “Now  _ that’s _ how it’s done!”

Hunk shook his head, amused at his enthusiasm. “Best of three?”

“Ha! You got it.”

They went on with the drill, their banter dying down as they kept alternating turns, ducking and penetrating, until the instructor called them all to a stop.

“Next up, lifting and takedowns!”

The instructor then assigned one of the pairs to the center of the hall to demonstrate how the exercise was done, correcting their mistakes and giving instructions while the two cadets did their best to keep up. Lance watched as one of the guys stepped behind the other, wrapping his arms around his waist and hoisting him up; these two were from the fighter class, both of them lean but built, with not much of a difference in their heights.

He glanced at Hunk. Would he even be able to  _ lift _ him, let alone take him down safely? And--that wasn’t the only thing that made him nervous. Lance felt his heart rate pick up, his palms sweating again as he thought about his arms around Hunk’s waist, his body all pressed up against Hunk’s bigger one.

_ Fuck. Why did it have to be him? _

Hunk seemed to sense his gaze as he gave him a look. “You up for this?” he asked in a low voice, like he could read his thoughts, plain and clear.

“Dude, just watch me,” Lance said, his competitive side overruling any possible embarrassments. He could do this.

“Okay, everyone, back to your pairs!” the instructor called.

“You wanna go first this time?” Hunk asked.

“Uh, no, you do it.”

Hunk shrugged. “Sure.”

He moved next to Lance, following the example the other cadets had shown. Lance felt a sense of foreboding come over him, his whole body tensing up as Hunk crowded behind him. “Ready?” 

His voice came so close to Lance’s ear, it made him shiver. “Just do it,” he said thickly.

After a slightest moment hesitation, he felt Hunk’s arms slide around his waist, all the way until he was clasping his big hands on Lance’s front. He was warm, and solid, and Lance’s stomach did a flip.  _ Here we go, _ he thought, and--the next moment, he was lifted off his feet like a bag of flour; he had barely enough time to prepare for the impact when he was already on the ground. 

The fall knocked the air out of his lungs. He gasped, a shock of hurt going through his body as he rolled on his back. But--that wasn’t all. There was heat budding in the pit of his gut, radiating down his legs and up his torso; it was still there when the pain subsided, and it took him a moment to recognize the feeling because the context was all wrong. 

_ Oh no _ . 

“Shit, sorry dude, I didn’t meant to--” Hunk stammered, worry edging his voice as he appeared on Lance’s line of sight. “Are you okay?”

He stared at Hunk, trying to get his voice back, but all he could think about was the blooming arousal that prickled on his skin, the hot flush of color on his cheeks. 

“Uh.” 

_ God _ ,  _ why was this happening now? _ He desperately willed his erection to go down, because it was his turn next, and he couldn’t deal with Hunk knowing about this. He knew he should say something,  _ do  _ something, but he was stupefied and  _ angry, _ kicking himself for the betrayal of his body. 

“Here, lemme help you up.” 

Hunk was offering him a hand, but Lance swatted it away and rolled back on his feet. “Jesus, dude, I know you said you weren’t gonna take it easy on me, but that was harsh.”

“Sorry, I just. I guess I’m not used to this.”

He sounded so miserable Lance felt a twinge of guilt for lashing out--this was his problem, not Hunk’s. He let out a sigh. “It’s okay, I’m not hurt.” Then he smiled, eyeing him from beneath his brows. “Just try to control your strength, man, or you’ll crush me.” The words sent a sudden thrill through his spine, and he had to glance away.  _ Not right now, don’t think about it now. _

Hunk let out a chuckle, sounding relieved as he said, “Don’t worry, I’ll do my best.”

They shuffled awkwardly closer; with every step, Lance felt his heart beat harder, louder, slamming against his ribcage as he stopped at Hunk’s side. He swallowed through the thickness in his throat, trying to get his body under control, but his arms refused to move, hesitation and fear raging inside him like a whirlpool.

_ Just do it. You can do it. _

A shout from the instructor jerked him back to reality. “McClain, Garrett! Move your asses, you’re falling behind!” 

“Y-yes, sir,” he stammered quickly, cheeks flushing. Shit, he needed to stop stalling. There was no running away from this. He took a breath, steeling himself. “Okay, ready?”

“Go for it,” Hunk replied, raising his hands slightly to give Lance more room to work.

He wrapped his arms around Hunk’s waist and secured his hold before moving closer; he was standing slightly to Hunk’s side, not directly behind, his front pressed against Hunk’s hip now, and despite his best efforts to  _ focus, _ Lance couldn’t stop the cascade of sensations coming to him. 

Hunk’s t-shirt was damp from the exercise, the scent of his sweat clean and sharp in Lance’s nose. It made heat trickle down his spine like beads of water, or maybe he was just sweating too; he held his breath, getting ready to do the lifting, his senses screaming at the closeness of their bodies.

_ Soft.  _

He could feel his hands sinking in the layer of squishy fat around Hunk’s waist, but he tightened his hold, ignoring the way it gave in to his touch and set his mind alight with images, ideas. But it wasn’t like he hadn’t thought of these things before--every day, all the time since the start of the semester and their reunion--so he  _ should  _ be able to hold off from fantasizing about his roommate in the middle of fucking practice, for fuck’s sake.

A flash of anger gave him the push he needed, and Lance bent his knees, lifting Hunk off his feet with a grunt. He was  _ heavy _ , but not too heavy, his body solid with muscle under the softness, making his job easier. The takedown didn’t go as smoothly, though; he’d wasted all his strength on getting him up, and there was no way he could let Hunk down gently, his only option basically just dropping him down.

“Fuck, sorry,” he panted when Hunk gave a yelp, hitting the ground in an awkward angle. 

“It’s fine.” Hunk managed a smile even as he rubbed the side of his hip. “I don’t break that easy.” He was up and next to Lance before he could finish catching his breath, already getting back into position to do another takedown. “Come, let’s not get yelled again.”

And back to the ground Lance went. The second time wasn’t as bad, as Hunk took care to curb his strength and didn’t slam him down again, but there was something in the way he handled Lance that set his system on red alert each time his body hit the ground. He could blame it on shock, on the adrenaline that rushed through him like venom, but the throbbing, pulsing need that felt stronger with every impact belied his excuses. 

The worst part was, he was sure Hunk could tell what was going on. There was just no room for hiding his hardon when the exercise required him to get up close and personal with the guy, which certainly didn’t help the matter. If he’d been crushing on Hunk before, now his feelings took a sharp turn towards pure physical lust, and--Lance didn’t even want to think about how he could share a room with him after this episode. The only consolation was that at least his loose sweatpants didn’t reveal his boner to a roomful of his fellow cadets.

Finally, the instructor called them to stop. “Take five, and we’ll be back with breakdowns and pins for the rest of the class.”

Lance barely heard the words from the humming in his ears--he’d just managed to take down Hunk for the fifth time, and his body was shaking from the effort, sweat pouring off his forehead. “Wha’d he say?” he gasped, doubling over with his hands on his knees, trying to get his breathing under control. 

“He said to take five,” Hunk repeated, rolling to a sitting position on the mat. “Then breakdowns and pins.”

“Oh,  _ Jesus _ .” 

Lance crumpled down next to him, hiding his face in his hands. This was starting to feel more and more like a nightmare. He had no idea what those drills meant specifically, but--it couldn’t be anything good. He was already on edge, drained and shamed and exhausted, and just the idea of Hunk  _ pinning _ him to the ground,  _ breaking  _ him down, made his body ache in the worst way. 

“You okay?” Hunk asked softly.

The concern in his voice made Lance grit his teeth. “Yeah,” he said, forcing his shoulders to slump, and dropped his hands from his face. 

Hunk was quiet for a beat; Lance felt his eyes on him, no doubt taking note of his beet-red face and trembling hands. “Are you--are you  _ gonna be _ okay? Sounds like the next part is, uh...” 

He felt tension seep back to his body, but he wasn’t about to run away from this. He didn’t want Hunk to think he was that  _ weak.  _ “What, you think just because you’re bigger than me, I’m gonna roll over and give up before we even start?” He finally looked up, lifting a brow as he let his lips curl into a smile, voice laced with fake confidence as he said, “I ain’t quitting that easy.”

Hunk gazed back at him, clearly not buying his bravado. “Well, that’s good. But--”

“No buts.” Lance cut him off with a wave of his hand. “I’m ready.”

“I just thought,” Hunk started, then faltered before trying again. “Are you sure--” 

Lance groaned, his temper flaring. “I already said I’m okay!” He frowned at Hunk, who was still watching him carefully, like he was something delicate to protect. In another situation, that look would have set his heart aflutter, but now, it just cemented his determination. He fixed Hunk with a firm look. “If you’re trying to get me to switch pairs, then you got another thing coming. I’m not doing this with anyone else.” 

Hunk’s eyes widened slightly, his lips parting, but just then, the instructor called them back in action.

“Cadets, listen up! Next we’re going to practice one way to break down your partner’s form when you’ve got them on the ground. Mitchell, Ferris! Show the others how it’s done.”

Again, the same pair of cadets was called to the center of the room to demonstrate the drill, and as Lance watched one of them settle down on his hands and knees on the mat, he felt a sliver of dread infect his conviction. 

“This is called the elbow chop,” the instructor said. “Press your chest on his back, knee up against his butt--that’s right, Ferris, you got it--and then put your left hand around him, on his belly. Now, with your right hand, you pull his elbow back, breaking his position, and then you grab his wrist--good, that’s good--and  _ drive _ him to the ground.”

He couldn’t take his eyes off the performance--these guys clearly came from a wrestling background, barely needing any guidance to get the exercise right, but that wasn’t what drew him in. The guy on top, Ferris, had Mitchell pinned under his weight, flattened to the ground with his arm caught under him, and Lance couldn’t help but feel a thrill as he realized--that’s where he would end up too. As the instructor made them repeat the drill, going through the basics again, all Lance could think about was Hunk’s body lying on top of him, big and heavy and  _ crushing _ .

When the exhibition was over and they were broken into pairs again, Lance immediately said, “Uh, let me go first.” His skin was tingling with excitement, restless energy coursing through his body, and he needed to do  _ something _ before ending back on the ground.

“Okay,” Hunk said, and in no time at all, he was sitting on his haunches with both hands on the floor, waiting for Lance.

Desire simmered inside him; he was overcome with an urge to run his hands down that strong back, over the plump curves of Hunk’s love handles and big ass, all the way to those thick, powerful thighs. Lance swallowed thickly, moving to take his position on top. 

He struggled to remember what the instructor had said, his brain suddenly blanking on the details as he crouched behind Hunk. “Um, so, first I got to...” He hesitated, then slid his hand around Hunk’s waist, all the way to his belly. He bit on his lip, trying not to let the sensation overwhelm him, but--it was so  _ soft _ , and his fingers itched to press in deeper, feel the flesh mold under his hand--

“You remember what the next step is, yeah?”

Hunk’s voice startled him and he almost pulled back, like he’d been caught doing something illicit. He drew in a breath, adjusting his legs, then leaned against Hunk’s back to reach over and place his hand on his elbow. “Y-yeah, I got this,” he said, but it still took him a moment to get his bearings back. “Now, chop the elbow and--” He thought out loud as he made the moves, trying to keep his mind from wandering to things that were best left to the privacy of his own bed.

He pulled Hunk’s arm under his body and drove forward; it didn’t take a whole lot of force to topple him over as Hunk wasn’t resisting, but it still took him by surprise to end up on top of him. Both his hands were caught under Hunk’s bulk, squished under his belly, and the feel of that big body under him made Lance want to grind against him, needy like a dog in heat.

“There, got you!” he squeaked as he pulled his hands free and scrambled back, trying to sound victorious.

Hunk turned on his back and gave him a smirk. “Good job,” he said, “you wanna go again before we switch?”

Lance stared at him, his gaze flicking down to where Hunk’s shirt had ridden up to reveal the half moon of his belly. He only got a peek before Hunk adjusted his clothes and hid it from view again, but the details were burned in his mind like a photograph: a smooth expanse of brown skin, a trail of dark hair leading down to his sweatpants, and the irresistible curve of plump fat flesh that made Lance’s mouth go dry.

“Uh.” He blinked--Hunk had asked him a question, right? “Sure, yeah.”

They moved back to the starting position, Hunk on all fours and Lance behind him. He’d managed to do the exercise right on the first try, so this should be getting easier, but instead, he felt more distracted than before. Tense with anticipation, eager to place his hands back on Hunk’s body, craving that contact between them with all his being. He tried to shake himself awake and  _ focus,  _ but his eyes were still caught in the flash of Hunk’s skin he’d witnessed, hands trapped by the feel of his soft, strong body underneath him.

He moved without thought, chest brushing against Hunk’s back as he wound his arms around him again. And maybe it was the image of Hunk’s belly still burning bright in his mind that did him in, but suddenly, he became aware of the tension in Hunk’s shoulders, the hush of an exhale that left his lips as Lance’s hand trailed down the hang of his belly, feeling all that chubby flesh against his palm.

He froze, blood rushing to his face. “Sorry,” he breathed out, too mortified to find an excuse for himself.

But Hunk didn’t reply, and Lance quickly moved forward--he secured his hold on Hunk’s belly and grabbed his elbow, pulled his arm down and pushed forward again. This time, he didn’t dwell on the ground, but as Lance got up, Hunk pushed himself back on his hands and knees, back to the starting position.

“Again?” he asked over his shoulder.

“Uh, okay.”

Lance went for the breakdown again, and again, and again, until the movements became second nature and he forgot about his earlier blunder. It was selfish, in a way, to keep going even after he’d learned the technique, but every time Hunk set himself back up for Lance to take him to the ground, he followed suite without question. His hand on Hunk’s belly, body sprawled on top of his--it felt so  _ good  _ to touch him like this, even if it was just for the sake of the exercise. He didn’t want to stop. 

They were both breathing hard when Hunk finally turned around and faced him, saying, “My turn.” 

It took him a moment to comprehend what that meant; he stared at Hunk’s flushed face, the black strands of hair stuck on his sweaty forehead and the dark look in his eyes. He found himself nodding, moving to take the position before his brain could fully process what was happening--he felt compelled to follow Hunk’s bidding, like there was no choice.

The realization didn’t kick in until he felt Hunk’s fingers skimming his side, his knee pressing against his backside.  _ Wait, _ he wanted to say, but he had no voice, no time. Hunk had internalized the drill already, having been on the receiving end of it so many times, and he didn’t hesitate when he caught Lance by his waist with one hand, the other falling on his elbow. 

He didn’t ask if Lance was ready; the only warning he got was the quiet murmur of  _ here we go  _ before Hunk pressed down on him, full force. And though he knew every step of this sequence by heart now, it felt so  _ different  _ from this perspective that it might as well have been a completely new exercise to tackle. Hunk broke his form so easily, grabbing his wrist and driving him to the ground so hard it knocked the wind out of lungs.

Lance let out a choked grunt. His head reeled from the feel of Hunk’s heavy weight on top of him, the fit of his round belly against his back, and--

Through the haze of lust and adrenaline, he thought he could feel something hard press against his ass. Something  _ unmistakably _ hard, yet something unexpected. His hips twitched, trying in vain to move, to  _ grind _ \--but it was all gone too soon, leaving him panting on the ground as Hunk pulled away. 

“ _ Fuck _ ,” he cursed, harsh and breathless. 

“Sorry, that was too much, wasn’t it?” 

There was a strange tone to Hunk’s voice, but as Lance pushed himself up and glanced back, his face only showed worry. Or--maybe not  _ just _ worry, but he didn’t get a chance to analyze the look Hunk was giving him as the instructor’s voice pierced through his harrowing thoughts.

“Last drill, folks! Everyone stop and take note!”

His jaw dropped in surprise. “What? But Hunk only got to do it once!”

He didn’t realize how loud his voice had been until everyone turned to look at him; he balked, snapping his mouth shut, but the damage was already done. 

“Shit luck,” the instructor called back. “You two blabbermouths have been chattering away this whole class, so you can only blame yourselves.”

“That’s not fair,” Lance grumbled.

He immediately regretted opening his mouth when the instructor stopped and turned to look at him. “Tough tits, McClain, life ain’t fair,” he said. 

Lance almost thought that was it, but then the scowl on the instructor’s face turned into a terrifying sneer, and Lance was overcome with sense of foreboding. “But okay, sure, if you  _ really _ want to get squashed by your partner so badly, come on up here. You guys can show everyone how it’s done.” He gestured to the center of the training hall where the previous demonstrations had been shown by Ferris and Mitchell, and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m waiting,” he added, smiling almost sweetly.

Lance opened his mouth to protest, but before he could say anything, he felt Hunk’s hand on his shoulder. “Do as he says,” he said in a low voice. 

His eyes darted to Hunk; panic roiled in his gut, spreading through his system, freezing out his limbs as it went. “B-but--” he tried, but Hunk shook his head, a stern look on his face.

“He’ll only make it worse if you resist.” He squeezed Lance’s shoulder in reassurance, then let his hand drop. “C’mon, it’ll be over soon.”

_ Fuck.  _

Lance watched him get up and turn away, and--what choice did he have? He couldn’t defy the instructor’s orders without getting into serious trouble, and for what? Because he was afraid of embarrassing himself? 

Color flushed back on his cheeks, dread and shame mixing in one hot rush that left his whole body stinging, shaking. No--this was much more than just embarrassment. This was about him being a fucking  _ pervert,  _ someone so deeply fucked they got off on their best friend crushing the ever living lights out of them. 

He was suddenly acutely aware of the crowd around him; there were no jeers, no shouts of encouragement, just a hush of anticipation as the other cadets stared at him, at Hunk, waiting for the scene to play out. Of course, they wouldn’t risk getting themselves in the same position as him, but-- _ god _ , why did he never learn to shut up?

Lance balled his fists, then pushed himself to his feet. “Fine,” he growled, walking past Hunk to the center of the hall. He could handle this.

The instructor smirked at his face as Lance took his place in the middle of the crowd, Hunk trailing a few steps after him; there was a certain glint in his eye, but his voice took on the same lecturing quality he’d used previously when he started giving out the instructions. “Okay! Down on the ground--Garrett, you take the top position. McClain, on your belly.” He waited for them to settle before addressing the cadets around them. 

Maybe this would really be okay.

“This last drill is about  _ pinning _ . Most of you’ve probably heard the term _ half nelson _ \--well, that’s the technique we’ll be learning next. Now--”

Lance barely heard what the instructor said next from the rush of blood in his head; he was glad he was lying down so he didn’t have to look at anyone, because-- _ fuck _ , this was most definitely  _ not going to be okay. _

“--under the armpits, like that, yes, and grab your opponent’s left wrist and pull it to his chest. Your right hand goes to the back of his neck--it’s important to keep the pressure on his back, make him  _ uncomfortable _ , don’t let him get away--”

Lance kept himself as still as possible, but inside him, his body roiled and recoiled. Everywhere Hunk touched him was a wildfire, scorching heat that burned through him and lit the embers of lust in the pit of his gut. Hunk’s palm cradled the nape of his neck, his hold on Lance’s wrist tight like cuff, but the worst of all was the leaden weight on his back--Lance could barely breathe, not from the pressure but from something else, a secret desire that was so vivid and carnal he wanted to drown in it.

_ More.  _ He wanted  _ more. _

“Now, keep the pressure on his neck, and then you  _ roll  _ him over--sink your hips, keep your weight on him, that’s right--”

The instructor’s voice seemed to come from somewhere far away, barely registering through the haze in his brain; Hunk was like a bulldozer, rolling him over,  _ demolishing _ him with the sheer force imbued on his body. His chest, his belly pushed against Lance, turning him to his side with no effort at all until he was flat on his back, breathless and wanting under Hunk’s bulk. 

He was so  _ big _ . So  _ heavy. _

Lance’s eyes fluttered open, and the first thing he saw was Hunk’s belly so close to his face he could almost bite it. His shirt had ridden up at the bottom again and the plump flesh of his gut was partly exposed, and Lance was glad his hands were trapped so he couldn’t move them because he wanted to touch it so  _ badly _ . He wanted to  _ feel  _ it, in his hands, on his face, pressed against his back just like before--

“Good! You got it, now, one more time.”

Hunk released his grip and moved back, and Lance shivered as the cold air hit his heated skin. His head was a mess, but his body moved on autopilot, rolling back on his belly to hide his flushed face. Need thrummed in his veins, hard and relentless, and he didn’t know what he wanted more--the sweetness of release, or just to feel that warm, crushing weight on him again, and  _ again.  _

He let out a shuddering breath, tensing up as Hunk closed on him once more. He tuned out everything else except for the touch of Hunk’s hands on him, the way their bodies connected and melded, separated only by the thinnest layer of clothing between them. 

The pressure got to him first, the heft of that strong body on top of him. He struggled to keep silent as Hunk grabbed his wrist, cupped the back of his neck with that big hand of his, and maneuvered him around like he weighed nothing at all. There were two voices battling for dominance in his head: one  _ screaming _ at him to  _ keep it together, to control himself, for fuck’s sake _ \--and another that was barely more than a whisper, but all the more seductive, telling him to just  _ give in, and surrender.  _

Reality snapped back like a rubber band as the instructor called out, “That’s it! Back to your pairs, boys and girls, let’s finish this.” 

Lance blinked up at the ceiling, trying to find the strength to move, but all he felt was the burning need that sapped him of his will, rendering him useless on the ground. His heart was still beating--he’d survived, somehow, but the cost of this lesson was yet to be determined.

“Hey, you okay?”

He jumped when Hunk touched him, like a thousand volts had just passed through him; he bolted up, eyes darting to Hunk’s and away again as he fought to find his voice. “Yes, great, thanks.” He felt Hunk watching him, but couldn’t make himself look back, too raw to face him fully.

“Come, let’s go back to our spot,” Hunk said, tapping him on the shoulder as he got up. He held out his hand. “You can do me next.”

Lance could barely control his face, heat prickling on his skin as the words sunk in, and all he could think of was,  _ oh, fuck. _

  
  
  
  
  


Lance spent the rest of the day in a haze. 

He’d somehow gotten through the end of the practice without further embarrassments, but as soon as the instructor had given them permission to leave, he’d slunk out of the training hall, grabbed his gear from the locker room and fled back to the dorms. He couldn’t even imagine taking a shower with Hunk after everything that had happened. Even under normal conditions, it was a struggle not to let his eyes wander, but now? Just the idea of seeing Hunk naked, dripping wet, slicked up with soap-- _ god, _ Lance needed to let off some steam before he could face his best friend again.

He’d locked himself in the bathroom at the dormitory and taken care of himself--fast and hard, legs trembling and hands shaking, the memory of Hunk’s touch still sharp as a papercut on his skin. It wasn’t the first time he’d thought about Hunk while getting off, but now, there were all these  _ sensations _ to draw from, sensations that muddled the waters between what was real and what fantasy.

Now, all he needed to do was recall how Hunk had moved against him, catching him under his bulk and pinning him to the ground, all fluid and agile despite his size--it wasn’t  _ fantasy  _ that got him choking out a cry as he came in his hand.

This was real.

The wrestling practice had taken place right before lunch hour, which fortunately left Lance several hours to recover before having to share a room with Hunk again. They didn’t have any other classes together that day, and though he usually met up with Hunk during breaks, Lance decided it would probably be best to avoid him until the inevitable reunion later that night. Still--he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about everything that had happened.

He was so  _ screwed.  _ Somehow, he’d thought managing his crush would get easier over time. Hell, he’d even thought that living together with the guy would help dissipate some of the feelings he was having--when they’d gotten their roommate assignments on that first day, he’d genuinely thought it would mean the end for these awkward thoughts. Surely Hunk would reveal himself to be a terrible slob, or a loud snorer, or just generally an unpleasant guy so Lance could get over his crush and move the fuck on.

Bull- _ shit. _

Of course, Hunk had his quirks--and yes, he was even a snorer--but Lance couldn’t help but adore every new tidbit he learned about him. Hunk was smart as fuck, funny as hell, and he was even a surfer, just like Lance! The more he got to know his new friend, the harder he fell, until today--seven weeks since the start of the semester--Lance finally admitted to himself:

He'd moved beyond crushing and fallen in love.

  
  
  
  
  


When he got back to their room, Hunk was already there; he was lying on his bed with his laptop balanced against his legs, but he looked up when Lance got in. “Hey,” he said, giving him a smile. He’d changed out of his uniform, and he looked so soft and inviting in his floral shorts and a sleeveless shirt that Lance had to look away.

“Hey,” he replied, dropping his bag next to the door. He unbuckled his belt and zipped down his jacket, shaking the uniform off his shoulders and tossing it on the foot end of his bed before sitting down. He rubbed his palms on his thighs, leg twitching nervously, then ran his hands through his hair and finally looked up. “We need to talk.”

“Huh?” Hunk glanced at him. “About what?”

Lance swallowed, gathering his courage, then blurted, “Are you gay?”

Hunk blinked; he closed his laptop and set it aside, sitting up on his bed. “Is this about what happened at practice today?” He was looking at Lance carefully, his face not revealing a thing, and Lance could feel himself blushing, but he valiantly held Hunk’s gaze.

“Just answer the question.”

Hunk’s lips twitched. “No.” Lance felt his stomach drop, but then Hunk’s face split into a grin, and he continued, “I like girls too.”

He wanted to groan, but he was too elated just by the  _ possibility  _ that there could be something here that he held it back. He chewed on his lip to keep his face in check, then went on. “Do you--do you like  _ me? _ ” He held his breath as Hunk gave him a lookover, like he was  _ considering  _ it, and Lance wanted to scream as he waited for him to give his answer. “ _ Well? _ ”

“Answer me first,” Hunk said, his eyes narrowing as he pushed his legs over the edge of the bed and leaned his elbows against his thighs; maybe it was all the wrestling they’d done earlier, but Hunk’s arms looked  _ big, _ thick and powerful, his muscles pumped up from the exercise. He looked-- _ good _ , so good Lance wanted to walk right over to him, drop down on his knees and put himself between those legs. He wanted to run his hands all over the bare skin revealed by his shorts, up his thighs and to the soft bulge of his belly where it pressed against his legs, plump and gorgeous.

“Do you like me?”

Lance’s gaze snapped up, the answer ready on his lips--he’d had it ready for  _ weeks _ , and now, he could finally say it _. _

“ _ Yes _ ,” he whispered.

“Good.” Hunk’s smile was slow, but it was genuine and warm, softening his whole expression as it spread on his lips. “Because I like you too.” He didn’t make Lance wait any longer, but pushed himself up on his feet and came to him, stopping to stand in front of him.

Lance suddenly had the greatest view in the world--Hunk’s shirt clung to his frame in the most pleasing way, showing off his strong chest and the curve of his belly, and all Lance had to do was to reach out and he could touch it--but then Hunk crouched down to his level, balancing his hands on the edge of the bed. 

“I like you, Lance,” Hunk said quietly, his eyes searching Lance’s for one final confirmation.  

He hesitated just a beat, then reached for Hunk’s shoulders and smiled. “Then fucking  _ kiss me _ already.” He saw Hunk’s eyes widen, darting down to his lips, and there was the barest nod of affirmation before he leaned closer and pressed his mouth on Lance’s.

He was glad he had Hunk’s shoulders to hold onto, because otherwise, he didn’t know where he would’ve ended up. The room around them ceased to exist, and all there was was the soft pressure of Hunk’s smooth lips on his, seeking and asserting, declaring the truth of his words.

Hunk was a gentle kisser, not shy but reserved and careful, like he was holding back the full strength of his passion in order not to hurt him. “I--” Lance started when they pulled apart; their heads still held inches apart, so close when they looked at each other with wonder and caution. He wanted to strip away that last part, make Hunk’s confidence soar as he gave himself to this openly, without fear. “I like you too, Hunk. I want--I  _ want you _ .” His hands skimmed over Hunk’s skin, over the curved edges of his broad shoulders and his back, slipping around his neck as he spread his legs to make room for him to move closer; he tugged Hunk back in for another kiss, his fingers entwining in his hair, body pushing forward because--he needed to  _ feel _ Hunk, all up against him, big and solid and  _ real _ .

Hunk’s hands on his thighs startled him, but he didn’t break away from the kiss. He kept edging closer, closer to Hunk, closer like a moth to a flame, desperate for that fire to burn him to cinder. Tiny sounds kept trying to make their way out past his lips, but they got caught in his throat, all hums and purrs as their mouths locked together over and over again, each kiss adding more kindling to the pyre growing inside him.

“A-ah, shit!”

Lance yelped when he felt the bed slip away from underneath him, and he landed down on Hunk’s legs. His back pressed against the side of the bed, and his front--Lance gulped, his eyes falling to look at the soft expanse of Hunk’s belly that filled the space between them, spilling on top of his thighs. “ _ Fuck _ ,” he whispered fervently, not stopping to ask permission as he brought his hands down to squeeze it.

Hunk gasped, hiding his face in Lance’s neck, but he didn’t ask him to stop. He let his hands roam, feeling up the curves and crevices, gripping tight on Hunk’s fleshy sides. “Ah,  _ fuck, _ ” he moaned, trying to shift back so he could  _ grind _ against that plush belly, getting lost in the feel of it.

“You like that?” Hunk’s voice was a low growl right next to his ear, his mouth punctuating his question with a hot kiss on the spot below it.

“F-fuck,  _ yes _ .”

He felt the vibration through his body as Hunk hummed in response; big hands grabbed his hips, and Hunk yanked him closer, fitting his crotch right up to his gut. “I like it too,” he murmured, nuzzling the side of Lance’s neck, planting kisses as he went; his breath tickled his skin where it hit the wet traces of his lips, sending shivers running through him.

“You can,” Hunk said, answering a question that hadn’t been voiced, “I want you to.”

Lance tilted his hips, biting his lip to keep quiet, hands tight on Hunk’s love handles as he tried to find some friction; he was painfully hard already, but there were too many layers between them. But--Hunk had given him permission, right? Boldened by the thought, he inched up Hunk’s shirt until his fingers grazed bare skin and he could slip his hands underneath.

He felt Hunk’s breath hitch as he trailed lightly over his sides, along the line that formed between his rolls when he sat down; he wanted to  _ see _ , but Hunk kept his head tilted up, sucking kisses along his jawline in a way that made Lance’s toes curl, his erection pulsing with need. His eyes fluttered shut and he let his hands do the looking, touching and feeling, learning the shape of Hunk’s form as he moved his palms to press over the roundness of his belly. Up, up, until his fingers brushed over soft pecs; Hunk made a sound, but Lance didn’t stop, palming his chest underneath his shirt, fingers splayed to  _ feel _ \--

An ugly sort of snort shot out of Hunk. Lance felt him squirm under his touch, right before jerked back and caught Lance’s wrists in vice grip. “Th--that--” he giggled, unable to hold it back any longer.

Lance blinked at him. Then his lips curled into a smirk. “Oh, you’re ticklish?” To test out his theory, he wiggled the tips of his fingers, trying to reach for Hunk’s armpits.

“N-no!” Hunk barked out. He tried to look serious, but the muscles on his face were twitching from barely disguised laughter, and when Lance flexed his fingers into the padded meat of his chest, he resisted all of two seconds before dissolving into a helpless fit off giggles. “H-hey! Stop it!” In an act of self defense, he ripped the offending hands away from his skin, holding them back as he caught his breath. 

Lance grinned.

“Don’t get any ideas,” Hunk said, shaking his head in warning.

“What? I’m just surprised this didn’t come up earlier when we were...” His voice trailed off; he was looking at where Hunk held his wrists, how those big hands wrapped around his so easily, how effectively they could render him powerless to move. A spike of arousal flashed through him at the sight, his mind conjuring up fresh memories of the practice earlier.

He had probably been staring for too long since Hunk caught up to his meaning and said, “You mean when we did those wrestling drills?” 

“Yeah.”

Lance cleared his throat. He wrenched his eyes away from the sight of their hands, hoping his face wasn’t too revealing of his thoughts-- _ don’t get any ideas _ \--but looking at Hunk didn’t help the matter. He was chewing on his lip, frowning a little, like he was mulling something over in his mind. Then he said, “Yeah, that wasn’t so bad. I guess I was otherwise occupied.”

“Oh, you  _ were _ ?” Lance waggled his brows. “Now, that explains it.”

Hunk scoffed. “Not like  _ that _ ,” he said, but his eyes darted away guiltily. He was quiet for a brief moment. “But  _ you _ looked like you were into it.”

He froze, heat crawling up his face; he pulled his hands free from Hunk’s grip, but didn’t know where to put them, so he set them back on Hunk’s belly. “Hey, I wasn’t the only one getting excited back there,” he said. His eyes flickered between Hunk’s face and his gut, gears grinding in his head. “I  _ distinctly _ remember feeling someone sporting a chubby at one point.” 

“That was, uh...” Hunk glanced down to where Lance’s hands were pressed on both sides of his belly.

He squeezed a bit of pudge between his fingers, and Hunk stopped breathing. Lance bit on his lip, then moved his hands lower, taking a good handful of Hunk’s belly fat in his both his palms. “Was it  _ this _ ?” he asked, shaking Hunk’s belly experimentally, and the harsh exhale he got from Hunk was all the reply he needed.

“A-ah,  _ Lance... _ ” 

Hunk dove forward to kiss him, and his hands got trapped between their bodies, enveloped in the warm flesh of Hunk’s stomach. The sensation made Lance’s breath catch; he buried his hands deeper, feeling the hard core of muscle beneath the softness. It felt--nice. Warm and indulgent, and the way Hunk moaned into his mouth when he played with his belly made Lance never want to stop.

He felt Hunk slip his hands under his arms, but he wasn’t prepared for what followed. One moment he was sitting on Hunk’s thighs, and the next, he was being lifted up like a child and set back on the edge of his bed; Hunk barely even broke the kiss, smushing their mouths back together as he rose to his knees, filling the space between Lance’s legs with his body. 

_ Whoa _ , Lance thought, feeling drunk with sensation, Hunk’s plush skin beneath his fingers and his strong arms around him. There was more heat to the kiss now, more urgency and lust; the reminder of Hunk’s strength had him unraveled, needy little sounds bubbling up from his throat as he grasped for a better hold around Hunk’s waist, trying to tug him down on top of him.

For a moment, he thought it had worked. He felt Hunk shifting, his hands leaving Lance’s body and their lips parting. Anticipation knotted in his gut, and he blinked his eyes open to witness Hunk clambering up to tower over him again.  

But instead of climbing on top of him, Hunk took a few steps back, wincing awkwardly. “Sorry, um. My legs fell asleep.” He made a face, doubling over to rub his hands down his thighs, trying to shake it off. 

Lance opened his mouth to say something, but his mind was drawing a blank. He didn’t know where to look. With Hunk’s shirt pulled up to his chest, Lance had already gotten a good eyeful of his chubby middle, but all this movement was giving him quite another view. The tremors that went through Hunk’s soft belly when he moved made his fingers itch to touch it again, and he was struck by an urge to crawl under Hunk’s bent form and sink his face into the hang of his gut. 

But as Hunk straightened up again, Lance became aware of something that stilled his feverish thoughts to a stop. There was another bulge he had overlooked before, one that was nothing like the pliant curves around Hunk’s waist, and his eyes fell to the front of Hunk’s shorts, to the tent his erection made in the patterned fabric.

And just like that, the reality of the situation crashed over him. Hunk was hard-- _ he _ was hard--and it was silly to not have thought where all this would lead. He  _ wanted  _ it, there was no doubt about that, but--he felt his throat close up from nerves, his body frozen like he’d been dipped in an ice bath.

“Have you done this before?”

Of course, Hunk had caught him staring; he felt color flushing to his face as he looked away, too embarrassed to even fake confidence. “No--not with guys.”  _ Or anyone _ , he finished the sentence in his head. But it was hard enough to admit he had no experience in this department to tell the whole truth--that he was a virgin, through and through. To divert Hunk’s attention away from his blushing face, he asked, “Have you?”

“I had a girlfriend, so. Yeah.” Hunk’s fingers played with the hem of his shirt, then after a moment of hesitation, he tugged it over his head and down his arms. “But I’ve never done it with anyone else, so...” He gave Lance a small smile. “Guess we’re on the same line here.”

He tried to smile back, but it felt weird on his face, his muscles twitchy and uncooperative; he watched Hunk drop the shirt--fuck, he looked  _ glorious _ , his chest pumped and arms big and just  _ perfect _ \--and then move forward tentatively. Lance scrambled back on the bed to make room for him, but his gut was knotted with doubts, terrified that he would be a disappointment.

Hunk settled on his knees at the foot end of the bed. He reached out a hand on Lance’s calf, but didn’t move forward, just let it rest there. “You don’t have to--” he started, looking for the right words. “We can take it slow. Or, you know, we don’t even need to... I’m kinda nervous, too.”

Lance looked at the big hand touching him; Hunk rubbed his thumb on his clothed leg, slow and reassuring, and Lance suddenly felt stupid to have worried. This was  _ Hunk _ \--he wouldn’t hurt him. He didn’t let himself think as stripped off his clothes, pulling off his shirt and pants before sitting back down, leaving only his briefs on. Goosebumps erupted on his skin, but he didn’t even notice the cold--what he was about to ask made the blood in his veins rush like liquid fire, the anticipation burning him up. He fixed Hunk with a look, and said, “Can you--I want you to...” He exhaled, forcing the words out. “I’m gonna lie down and I want... I want you on top of me.” 

Hunk stared, then nodded. “Okay.” 

Lance got on his knees and turned his back on Hunk, giving him a quick look over his shoulder. “Like--like this. Like we did during practice.” He waited for Hunk to get his meaning, then slid down on the bed on his belly and waited.

It felt like a really long time before he felt Hunk shifting on the other end of the bed. The mattress rocked slightly as he moved closer, and Lance buried his face in the covers, barely able to breathe. He tried to make his muscles relax, but his whole body was tense, shivering from expectation. 

He jumped when he finally felt Hunk touch him, his fingers sliding down Lance’s thighs in a slow, testing caress. He shuddered--the build up was just too much, and he needed Hunk on him  _ right now _ , needed the weight and the warmth of him like air in his lungs. 

Without a warning, Hunk gripped his ankles and pulled Lance between his legs. He yelped from surprise, grasping at the covers on instinct, but at the same time, a flash of arousal shot through him. Hunk didn’t waste time to climb on top of him, straddling his thighs; his hands pressed on the mattress on either side of Lance’s head, and he wanted to  _ squirm _ , not to resist but from the sheer force of his arousal, heart thudding in his chest like it wanted to escape. 

And then Hunk eased himself down on his legs, on his back, blanketing him with his body. His soft belly spilled over Lance, but what turned him on the most was the  _ heft  _ of him, the heavy, crushing weight that sunk him to the bed below. Lance made a sound--a harsh, guttural sound of utter lust that rose deep from within him. 

“You okay? Is this--”

_ “Yes _ ,” he moaned, barely able to speak. His fingers curled into the bed covers, and he tried to move just to grasp the full sense of Hunk’s weight on him, but there was no way out. “You can, ah, m- _ more _ ...”

“I don’t want to crush you,” Hunk said, but he lowered his elbows on the mattress and let his body rest of top of him, and Lance found himself truly unable to speak.

_ Heavy.  _ Hunk was so _ heavy. _

He struggled to pull air into his lungs as Hunk buried him under his bulk, but the need to breathe felt strangely irrelevant, almost like an afterthought. He wriggled and groaned, slick with sweat, panting from exertion as he fought to free himself--

“ _ Lance. _ ”

The sense of pressure left him as Hunk pushed himself up, not all the way, but far enough that Lance felt cool air hit his skin. Disappointment flooded into his dizzy brain as he gulped for oxygen, shuddering with need and yearning. “Why’d you stop?” he managed to say, turning his head to be heard but not opening his eyes.

“Dude, I’m not gonna let you suffocate.”

“It’s--it’s fine, just. One more time.”

“Lance...”

He shifted so he could look at Hunk; he looked flushed, but his brows were knitted into a frown, worry etched on his face. Lance sighed. “I’ll tap out before I pass out, okay?” He managed a weak smile before turning his face back into the mattress. “Please.”

Hunk didn’t reply, but Lance felt him slowly ease back down until he was lying on top of him again. It felt--perfect, hot and heavy, just like he wanted. If he focused on keeping calm, he could draw enough breath to survive, so he didn’t struggle this time, wanting to prolong the sensation for as long as he could. Choked little moans fell from his lips, breathless sounds of desire leaving him as he tilted his hips, trying to grind his erection against the bed; it was too soft to get any friction, and the harder he tried, the more overwhelmed he got, the thundering in his ears, the throbbing in his head making the world turn red behind his closed eyelids.

Just as he thought he couldn’t take it anymore, he felt the weight on his back  _ increase _ \--and he realized that Hunk had been holding back. White hot arousal spiked through him. Lance gasped, but it came out almost soundless, his throat thick and lungs so empty there was simply no air left to cry out. His head spun, thoughts colliding into one another in a heat-filled chaos, and yet--he wanted it. He wanted it so  _ badly. _

It took all his willpower to search for Hunk’s hand, but as soon as his fingers grazed warm skin, the pressure was off. Hunk pulled off him, and Lance was left gasping for breath, his body light as air, his mind on fire with exhilaration.

_ Heavy--so heavy and  _ perfect.

As soon as he could move, he rolled on his side to face Hunk. Maybe it was the adrenaline rush that left him feeling so fearless, but he wasn’t nervous anymore--if he could survive  _ this _ , he could sure as hell handle whatever came next.

“So, uh. I take it you’re really into that?” Hunk asked.  His face was such a strange mix of curiosity and confusion that Lance had to laugh.

“Yeah. It just...” He sighed, grinning blissfully. “It just feels so  _ good. _ ”

Hunk’s lips twitched. “I can see that,” he said, eyes trailing down Lance’s body. 

His gaze was like a caress, making Lance’s skin tingle where it touched, but he was past his previous reservations and did nothing to hide the bulge in his briefs when Hunk’s eyes stopped there. He reached out for Hunk and said, “C’mere.” Hunk’s eyes darted up. Hesitation crossed over his face, but Lance shook his head, smiling. “Just come, I’m--I just want you to touch me.”

Doubt melted away from Hunk’s face; he lay down next to Lance, cupping his cheek with the palm of his hand. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, smiling even as he kissed him.

Something unraveled in his chest. It felt like a storm had passed, bringing sunshine it its wake; he felt euphoric, calm despite the anticipation budding in his gut. He splayed his fingers on Hunk’s belly, snuggling closer to feel his warm flesh against his skin, letting Hunk wrap his arm around him. There was no hurry--they had all the time in the world to touch and feel, learn the shapes and curves, the planes and valleys of each other. 

As their bodies entwined, Hunk’s thigh sliding between his when he moved on top again, the gentle pressure of his mouth anchored Lance, quelled his nerves with its sweetness. Sure, he’d been kissed before, but nothing compared to the way Hunk made him feel. There was no reason to fear rejection because Hunk had already seen the weirdest side of him, seen it and  _ accepted  _ it, and his kisses were a constant stream of reassurance and affection.  

With Hunk, he was  _ safe _ .

Lance shivered as Hunk’s lips traveled down the side of his neck, nipping at his sensitive skin. Hunk kept himself propped up on his arms, but the feel of his big, plush frame on top of him was enough to drive Lance crazy, and he grasped a hold on Hunk’s belly where is squished against him, delighting in the soft gasp he felt on his skin in response. 

He wanted to say something, just to break the tension building up inside him, but words escaped him as his mind filled with sensations of heat and lust, heaviness and desire. Hunk felt so  _ soft,  _ too soft to give Lance the friction he needed, but the way his belly yielded to his touch, so pliant and plentiful, gave him more than enough to work with. He lifted his hips to push against Hunk’s belly, grabbing at his waist to get more leverage, and Hunk pressed down on instinct, grinding against him; he could feel the hardness of Hunk’s erection against his pelvis, but--he wasn’t afraid anymore. 

He started with the little things--finding the waistband of Hunk’s shorts, trailing along the edge of the clothing before inching his fingers in to feel more skin. Hunk responded by biting down on his shoulder, his breath coming out in a shuddering gasp when Lance pushed his hands in all the way, arching up to feel the roundness of his ass. There was so much to feel, to grasp and squeeze, and Lance might have moaned a little when Hunk moved up to catch his lips again, his belly dragging against Lance’s, the weight of him so deliciously heavy on top of him. 

It was so easy to give into the flow of things when every lick of Hunk’s tongue against his, every kiss he stole from Lance’s lips was full of heat and lust, the same need that drove Lance forward mirrored in Hunk’s actions. He pushed Hunk’s shorts down to bare his ass, teasing at the exposed skin until Hunk was moaning against his mouth, but there was no way to get them off all the way from this position. He was in no rush, though, and when Hunk finally broke off to push himself back up on his arms, Lance found himself reaching for his shoulders, ready to pull him back down. But--

“Oh, wow,” he breathed out when he suddenly got a good eyeful of Hunk’s chest and belly.

Without thinking, his hands moved down to Hunk’s soft pecs; he bit on his lip as his palms were filled with the plush meat of Hunk’s tits, and he delved in harder to feel the muscle beneath the fat, reveling in the double sensation of pliant flesh and thick pads of strong muscle. 

“A-ah,  _ Lance,”  _ Hunk groaned. 

His voice pulled Lance’s eyes up to his face; Hunk looked flustered, brows knitted like maybe he was embarrassed, and Lance immediately let go. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to--”

But Hunk shook his head and caught Lance’s hand, bringing it back to his chest. “‘S alright, feels--feels good when you do that.” His voice was raspy with desire, eyes dark with lust as he settled back with both hands on the bed.

Lance swallowed, nodding just slightly. Heat simmered in his veins as he palmed Hunk’s chest again, squeezing at the soft flesh before jiggling it ever so gently; he wasn’t sure which one of them the sound originated from, or if it was both of them moaning at the same time, but-- _ fuck, _ it  _ did _ feel good, so good he wanted to keep playing with the plump mounds of Hunk’s tits, sinking his fingers in the flesh, rubbing his thumbs over his tight nipples as Hunk ground down against him, breathless sounds of passion filling the room around them.

Lance couldn’t take his eyes off the sight of those perfect soft tits; he licked his lips, hot arousal coursing through him. “Can you, I want to...” He cleared his throat; he wanted  _ more, _ wanted to taste Hunk on his tongue, but it felt impossible to get the words out.

“What? Tell me what you want,” Hunk said, gasping as Lance jiggled his chest again. 

He blushed, hesitating still. “I want to, uh. Come--come down for a bit,” he stammered, moving his hands to Hunk’s sides to guide him.

“Ah, o-okay.” 

Hunk started to lower himself on top of Lance, and as much as Lance  _ loved _ the feeling of his weight on him, it wasn’t what he wanted now. He tried to slither down, but with Hunk’s leg between his, his big body pinning him to the bed, he couldn’t get anywhere. “Can you--” he started, wriggling awkwardly, then gave up and exhaled. “I wanna suck on your tits, okay? Just--move up a bit.” 

He wanted to hide his face from Hunk’s view, cheeks burning with embarrassment, but Hunk just laughed. “Dude, you should’ve just said.” His voice was a sweet, warm rumble, edged with roughness and arousal; he promptly moved to straddle Lance and planted his elbows on the mattress, offering his chest to Lance. “Go ahead,” he said playfully, and Lance wanted smack his teasing ass but instead, he craned up and licked a wet stripe across Hunk’s nipple before sucking in a mouthful of warm, fat flesh. 

Hunk choked out a cry, shuddering with pleasure; Lance felt a flash of gratification, grinning against his nipple, but then Hunk leaned down some more, smushing Lance’s face into the softness of his chest, and everything else faded to background noise. 

Lance might have lost himself for a bit, there. He wasn’t really sure  _ why _ it felt so good to have his face buried in Hunk’s chest, his mouth latched onto his nipple, licking and nibbling and sucking at the flushed skin around it. But it did.  _ God _ , it felt simply amazing, like everything he’d never known he wanted. He kept lapping at the soft tit on his face, hands feverish on Hunk’s thick waist, squeezing big handfuls of his belly like he couldn’t get enough. He probably should’ve been more graceful about it, less needy and less  _ greedy _ , but--Hunk didn’t seem to mind. If anything, his breathy moans and harsh, stuttering gasps made Lance go at it harder, wanting to give Hunk as much back as he was getting. 

“Jesus, Lance,” Hunk panted as he pushed himself up to a sitting position, “you got some mouth on you.” 

“Mmm,” he hummed, his brain not working enough to form a comeback, barely registering what Hunk had just said. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand--his lips felt tingly and swollen, his chin covered in his own saliva, but he was too blissed out to feel embarrassed. He fluttered his eyes open, and the first thing he caught was Hunk’s thoroughly ravished chest, his bitten nipples slick with Lance’s spit; he let out a wistful sigh, and said, “Mmm, well, you got some tits on you.” 

“Lance!” Hunk gasped, not indignant but surprised, and Lance chuckled. 

“I know you liked that, so no need to act coy now.” 

He looked down meaningfully at the front of Hunk’s shorts, biting on his lip to hold back a smirk; Hunk followed his gaze, glancing down at himself. He palmed the thick bulge of his erection in a fleeting gesture, and Lance felt a sudden jolt of excitement pass through him. His hands slid up Hunk’s thighs as if having a mind of their own, slipping under the brightly colored material to feel the warm skin underneath.

“So...” he started, eyes flicking up to meet Hunk’s. “What’s next?”

They stared at each other for a moment, seeking silent confirmation for what they both knew they wanted. Hunk was the first to move--he reached for the waistband of his shorts, thumbs catching under it. “You ready for this?” he asked in a low voice, the look on his face equal parts nervous and eager. 

Lance swallowed through the thickness in his throat. “Yeah,” he said. 

Hunk nodded, clambering up from Lance’s lap to take off the last of his clothes. He moved stiffly, not awkward but weary, his leg muscles trembling slightly. It struck him that Hunk must be tired--the wrestling practice hadn’t exactly been easy on Lance either; he already knew he’d be sore as hell for the next several days--but it must have taken its toll on Hunk as well. 

And yet, he was making Hunk do all the work here. Lance stripped off his briefs, then sat up to clear some room for Hunk on the bed. “Lie down,” he said to answer the wordless question in Hunk’s eyes. 

He tried not to stare at the bobbing head of Hunk’s erection, tried to ignore the flush spreading down his neck at the sight of it. This was all so new and  _ real _ , this was happening, right now, but Lance didn’t allow himself to feel nervous as he watched Hunk settle down on top of the covers. Fuck, he knew how to handle a dick--he had one himself, didn’t he? Thinking quickly, he jumped off the bed to retrieve a bottle of lotion he kept in the drawer of his desk, just for the cause, then climbed back on the mattress. After a briefest moment of hesitation, he straddled Hunk’s hips, thighs spreading around his bulk, and only then did he allow himself to look at Hunk properly. 

“Fuck, Hunk, you look so good,” he murmured, momentarily lost in the view before him. The bottle slipped from his hand as he reached out to caress the sides of Hunk’s belly, his beautiful brown skin so rich and warm to touch. He hummed, pleased at the feel of it, at the shivers than ran through Hunk’s body when he pressed his fingers in his soft flesh. 

“You, you too,” Hunk said, gasping as he delivered the words. His hands caught Lance’s wrists and gave them a tug, and Lance barely had time to make a sound before he found himself lying on top of him. He blinked up at Hunk’s smiling face in surprise, but before he could ask, Hunk already answered him. “Just wanted to kiss you,” he said, his eyes shining with affection, and then did just that. 

There was sweetness to the kiss, but it was quickly overrun by heat as Lance ground his hips down, reveling in the feel of Hunk’s body underneath him. His dick pressed hard against Hunk’s belly, making him groan with the sensation, lust sparking in his veins. Hunk’s hands were roaming the length of his back, cupping his ass and pulling him down harder; if this kept up, Lance was sure he would soon come untouched--just the feeling of the plush skin against his erection was enough to drive him crazy with lust.

“You’re so distracting,” he said, kissing Hunk’s face, his lips, before pushing up once more. “I wanna touch you.”

“Do it,” Hunk said, bucking his hips with a slow grin on his face. “I’m not stopping you.”

Lance rolled his eyes. “Oh yeah, definitely. You’re just being helpful with all this kissing and stuff.”

“Hey, what’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing,” Lance said, shaking his head as he picked up the bottle of lotion again. “Absolutely nothing. But--” He popped the cap and squirted a generous amount of lotion on his hand, then flung the bottle back on the bed. “--let’s just do this now, okay?”

“Okay.” Hunk grinned; he looked like he wanted to say something more, but he quieted down as Lance glared at him, mock serious as he spread the lotion on both his hands and scooted down to find a good position. 

“Okay,” he repeated, more to himself than Hunk. He took a breath, then looked down. 

Hunk’s erection curved against his hip, just beneath his belly. It was thick and  _ big, _ bigger than his by far, and Lance felt his mouth go dry just from looking at it. He was suddenly glad they weren’t going all the way on the first try, because there was no way he could take something that big in his ass without some serious practice. Even fitting his mouth around the full length of it would probably take some effort. A curling heat spread through his gut as he thought about all the things that lay ahead of them--everything they could do from now on, if they both still wanted it after this--and he swallowed, his throat thick with arousal. 

He wanted all of those things, and  _ more, _ but first, they needed to get through this.

Pushing back his fears, Lance wrapped his fingers around Hunk’s dick; he glanced up at the sharp hiss of an inhale that left Hunk when he moved his hand in a slow, tentative stroke, but his eyes quickly returned back down, glued to the sight of him. He’d been right--it felt a lot like jacking off, the familiar hardness of the erection in his hand making it easy to find a good pace. He kept his grip tight, taking his own dick in his left hand, and stroked them both at the same time, thighs clenching around Hunk. 

“Ah,  _ ah, _ that’s, that feels  _ good _ ,” Hunk groaned, but Lance was too focused to reply. 

It took more effort to do two dicks at once, his left hand not used to the motion. He chewed on his lip, his pace faltering, and despite the hard edge of arousal he’d felt earlier, it suddenly seemed like coming like this would not be that easily achieved. “Fuck,” he cursed softly, trying to push back his doubts before they ruined it for him, but he could feel his orgasm slip further and further away, disappointment clouding his mind. 

Hunk’s hand appeared in his line of sight, brushing against the one on his erection.“Here, lemme help,” he said, and without waiting for an answer, wrapped his big hand over Lance’s.

Now, that did help. Lance made a choked sound, the sudden increase of pressure on his dick sending heat through his system, making him gasp at the sensation. Hunk took charge of moving his hand on his dick, jacking him off with his own grip, and Lance almost forgot he was still holding Hunk in his right hand. “You do it,” he breathed, pulling his hand free from under Hunk’s, and splayed it on Hunk’s belly as he focused on the glide of Hunk’s hand on his erection, the girth of the dick in his own slick hand. 

He was verging closer now, harsh breaths passing his lips as Hunk jerked him off; his grip was so strong, tight and relentless, matching Lance’s pace perfectly. All the movement made his flesh ripple under Lance’s touch, and he felt an urge to lean down to feel the jiggle of it better. But he stayed put, not wanting to interrupt Hunk’s work. “Faster,” he murmured, picking up his own pace, frustration and need building up in the pit of his gut. 

“Lance,” Hunk groaned, arching up under him. His eyes fluttered shut, beads of sweat coalescing on his forehead, and he looked so  _ beautiful _ , an epitome of masculinity with his strong arms and big shoulders and the soft cushioning of his gut. The sight of him made Lance  _ ache. _

Hunk reached blindly for Lance’s hand, stopping the steady beat of it to grip his own erection. “Lemme, let me, let’s do it together.” He was panting, his voice barely more than gravel, but he seemed to know what he was doing when he brought his hands together, guiding their dicks to align in his palm of his hand. His fingers wrapped around them, his hand big enough to fit them both comfortably in his grip, and--

Lance shuddered from the sheer force of the feeling that rushed through him. “H- _ Hunk _ .” He could barely get the word out, overtaken by the sensation of Hunk’s hard length against his, the strength of his grip around them both. He fell back, arms braced on Hunk’s thighs for support, hips surging forward to get closer,  _ closer.   _

It didn’t take much more to push him over the edge. He’d been teetering on the verge of an orgasm for so long, overwhelmed by his lust over and over again, that the firm, deliberate strokes of Hunk’s persistent hand quickly sent him spiraling down towards his release. His shivered, gasping wordlessly as Hunk ground their erections together, faster and harder as he worked to get them both off. “A-ahh, H-Hunk, f- _ fuck _ ,” he stuttered, his body trembling and shuddering, until finally,  _ finally _ , he reached it. Lance arched back, mouth open but no sound coming out, his mind blissfully blank as he came.

He wasn’t sure if Hunk had joined him, or if it took him longer to find his peak--all he knew was that as soon as Lance collapsed next to him on the bed, Hunk pulled him into his arms. 

They lay quiet for a long time, basking in the afterglow. Random thoughts kept popping in Lance’s head--like how he wished there was a private shower in their room so he could take one with Hunk, or if they’d fooled around too long and were now late for dinner--but none of them seemed important enough to say out loud. It was a comfortable silence, one warmed by the heavy body next to him, and Lance felt--content. He felt good. 

“So,” Hunk started, but stopped to clear his throat before continuing. “I was thinking that next time we have wrestling practice, we should probably ask to switch if we get paired up again.”

Lance blinked. “ _ What? _ ” He roused up to look at Hunk, frowning at him. “Why?”

There was a smile on Hunk’s lips, threatening to break into a grin. “Well, you... You were pretty into it. So. Might be safer if it was with someone else.”

Lance scoffed. “Absolutely not,” he said, shaking his head before letting it drop back on Hunk’s arm. “I’m not doing this with anyone else.”

“But if you  _ do  _ get paired with someone e--”

“No. No, no. I want you.” He turned on his side, slinging his arm over Hunk possessively. “You’re mine now. It’s just gonna be you and me from now on, got it?”

Hunk chuckled, soft and indulgent. “Okay, okay. I got it.”

“Good.” 

Lance tried to relax back into the peaceful quiet, but Hunk’s voice broke through again. “I mean, not that I’d  _ want _ you to wrestle with someone else. You fell for me when we did that, so what if--”

“ _ Hunk _ ,” Lance stopped him with a huff. “I didn’t--it wasn’t the wrestling that got me to like you.” 

“Oh?” Hunk perked up; he rolled on his side, and though the neat freak in Lance wanted to tell him to clean up first before he messed his bed, he was too comfortable where he was, squished so close to Hunk’s body. “How long have you liked me, then?”

“Uh, for a while.” 

Hunk beamed at him. “Me too! I thought maybe you were straight, so I didn’t say anything, but I liked you from the first time we met.”

Lance lips parted in surprise. “You--you did?”

“Yeah,” Hunk said, laughing like he was embarrassed. “You were so cute. I mean, you _ are  _ cute.” 

Lance could feel the blush spreading over his cheeks. “Hey, now, how about so cool and manly and--”

But Hunk cut him off with a kiss before he got too far, grinning as he pulled back again. “All of that, too. You can be cute  _ and  _ manly.” 

“Oh my  _ god _ ,” Lance groaned, hiding his face in Hunk’s skin. 

He thought back to the visiting day and the time they’d spent together; he hadn’t known how things would turn out back then, but he remembered how much he had liked Hunk, straight from the get-go. His easy laugh, his smart wits, the wide variety of things they had talked about, everything between the earth and sky. That gut feeling that spoke to him, telling him,  _ this one’s a keeper.  _ That they were meant to be  _ something.  _

Now, he knew better, and the relief of having his feelings returned almost overwhelmed him. 

There was just one thing he needed to do now. “Hey,” he said quietly, pausing to gather his courage, eyes flickering over Hunk’s face. “I just, I need to tell you something.”

Hunk hummed, but his expression sobered when he looked at Lance and saw the frown on his face. “What is it?”

“I--I mean. It’s not that big of a deal, but... I’ve never done this before. With anyone. Boys, or--or girls. So, you--you were my first.” He pulled in a breath, and sighed, waiting for Hunk to reply. He shouldn’t be this nervous; it really  _ wasn’t _ that big of a deal, right? 

Several emotions played across Hunk’s features before finally settling on a big grin. “ _ Really? _ ”

“Um, yeah.”

“Wow, that’s amazing.” Hunk squeezed him closer, reassuring and warm. “Dude, that’s totally fine, I just--” He broke off, and Lance realized he was holding back a laugh. 

“What?”

“Nothing. I just,” he started, his belly bouncing with silent laughter. 

“ _ Hey, _ it’s not that funny,” Lance grumbled, tempted to hide his face again, but he was too annoyed to do so.

“No, no, it’s just that,” he tried, but it took him a moment to get the words out from the fits of giggling that kept interrupting him. “Sorry, but like, I thought you’d definitely had a girlfriend before. A--big girl. You know, heavy and with, uh. Big boobs.”

“And  _ why _ would you think--oh.”  _ Oh. _

Hunk lost it again at the grimace that settled over Lance’s face. “Yeah. So you really have a thing for boobs, huh?”

“ _ God, _ shut  _ up, _ ” Lance whined, this time sinking his face the crook of Hunk’s arm and keeping it there, embarrassment burning on his cheeks.

“Don’t worry, you can play with my tits all you want,” Hunk reassured him, but Lance could hear the amusement still lingering in his tone. His only reply was a groan--Hunk would never let him live this down, would he?

But after a while, he felt Hunk’s hand traveling down his back, petting him gently. “So I was your first, huh.” He spoke quietly, like he was thinking out loud. “I like that. I wish--well, I can’t wish I hadn’t done it before, that would be mean, but...” He trailed off, then finally said, “I hope you’ll be my last, then.”

It took a moment for the words to sink in; Lance felt a fluttering in his chest, his heart clenching as his throat closed up with emotion. He wanted to say,  _ me too _ , or something of the like, but it was hard to find the words when his whole being was suddenly filled with light and passion. He lifted up his eyes, catching Hunk looking at him, and his smile was the softest, most radiant thing in the world.

“You’re such a  _ sap, _ you know that?” Lance croaked, then promptly kissed him without waiting for a reply; he didn’t need one to know what Hunk would say.

Hunk was  _ his _ sap. And he was Hunk’s.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on the tumbls @[blackdonuthole](https://blackdonuthole.tumblr.com)!


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